The moment Yang Feng stepped onto Shouchun's solid, imposing gate tower, he was utterly dumbfounded.
He looked in the direction the palace attendant indicated and saw a severed head hanging high at the very top of the gate tower. Its eyes were wide open, refusing to close even in death. It belonged to the former master of Huainan, Yuan Shu.
What was going on?
Wasn't I still sleeping?
Who chopped his head off?
Before Yang Feng's CPU could finish processing this horrifying scene, Yan Xiang's aged figure knelt straight down below the city wall. His voice rang like a great bell, resounding through the clouds.
"Yuan Shu sowed rebellion, usurped the imperial title, and defied Heaven's mandate!"
"He has now been slain by Yang Feng, the greatest emperor of all time!"
"We, your subjects, respectfully beseech Your Majesty Yang Feng, the greatest emperor of all time, to ascend the throne!"
With that, Yan Xiang slammed his gray-haired head against the cold flagstones and shouted with every ounce of strength he possessed.
"Long live Your Majesty! Ten thousand years! Ten thousand times ten thousand years!"
His kneeling and shouting seemed to serve as a signal.
Ji Ling dropped thunderously to one knee beside him. Behind him, the dark mass of Huainan troops stretched as far as the eye could see. Armor clashed like mountains collapsing and seas roaring as every last soldier knelt in unison.
"Long live Your Majesty! Ten thousand years! Ten thousand times ten thousand years!"
The deafening cries merged into a visible wave of sound that surged skyward, almost scattering the clouds above.
Standing atop the gate tower, Yang Feng felt even the flagstones beneath his feet trembling slightly. His mind was completely blank.
What the hell was this?
Draping me in the yellow robe?
But Zhao Kuangyin had the Chenqiao Mutiny-he was forced into it! What you're doing... this is fucking petitioning me to take the throne atop Shouchun's gate tower!
Didn't we agree yesterday to wait a while?
And today you're roasting me over a fire?
In that brief moment of distraction, the people Yan Xiang had arranged beforehand appeared from somewhere, carrying a dazzling imperial robe embroidered with nine-clawed golden dragons. Without allowing a word of protest, they slipped it onto Yang Feng.
The silky fabric settled against his body, yet its weight felt like a mountain, pressing down until he could hardly breathe.
The instant the imperial robe was on, a dragon crown studded with pearls and jade was set firmly on his head.
The entire process flowed like drifting clouds and running water, so quickly that he had no time to react.
Countless townspeople had merely been watching the spectacle. Now, seeing that imposing figure atop the gate tower, dressed in an imperial robe and wearing a dragon crown, and hearing Yan Xiang's earlier words and the mountain-shaking, sea-roaring cries of "Long live Your Majesty," they instantly understood something.
Who cared who he had been before? The man standing up there now was the emperor!
Someone in the crowd was the first to kneel, and then it was as though the first domino had been toppled.
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
Hundreds upon thousands of townspeople knelt toward the gate tower. Whether from the heart or simply following the crowd, every one of them joined in the cries.
"Long live Your Majesty!"
"May Your Majesty reign for ten thousand years!"
Yang Feng stood rooted to the spot, utterly submerged in the fanatical waves of sound. He felt less as though he had ascended the throne than as though he had drunk three jin of counterfeit liquor and blacked out.
My heavens, Yan Xiang... y-you... how could you do something so utterly improper!
Wasn't this a textbook case of forcing the sovereign's hand?
But the problem was, I was the boss!
Since when did employees get to force their own boss's hand like this?
This was the greatest absurdity under heaven!
Seeing Yang Feng remain silent for so long, merely standing there in a daze, Yan Xiang grew anxious below the wall.
He thought his lord was still worried about his reputation and still hesitating, so he steeled his heart. Tears streamed down his aged face as he cried out and kowtowed.
"Your Majesty!"
"If you refuse to ascend the throne, the people of this world will continue to suffer!"
"You are the greatest emperor of all time, the one to whom Heaven's mandate belongs! Heaven sent you to save all living souls!"
"Your Majesty, we beg you to ascend the throne!"
The old man shouted as he banged his head against the ground. Before long, blood appeared on his forehead. His sincerity was so heartfelt that every soldier and commoner around him was moved.
"We beg Your Majesty to ascend the throne!"
"We beg Your Majesty to ascend the throne!"
Yan Xiang's performance completely ignited everyone's emotions. Countless generals, soldiers, and commoners shouted at the top of their lungs, imploring Yang Feng to hurry and ascend the throne.
Their voices rose in ever-higher waves, shaking heaven and earth, making Yang Feng tremble with anger.
No... I... I really wasn't mentally prepared for this yet!
You're giving me no choice whatsoever, just hoisting me straight onto a pile of firewood to roast!
Refuse?
How could I refuse?
Say this was all a misunderstanding, that I hadn't killed Yuan Shu and didn't want to be emperor?
Wouldn't that be slapping Yan Xiang and Ji Ling, my two foremost meritorious officials, hard across the face in front of every soldier and civilian in the city?
Once everyone's hearts drifted apart, how was I supposed to lead them?
If these military louts thought I looked down on them, it wasn't impossible that they'd stage another mutiny on the spot and chop my head off.
Forget it, forget it, forget it!
Yang Feng heaved a long sigh inwardly. Things had reached the point where he was riding a tiger and could not get off-no, riding a dragon and could not get off.
Fine, I'd do it!
Wasn't it just being an emperor?
Having thought that through, he slowly raised both hands and pressed them down slightly, signaling for everyone to quiet down.
The gesture seemed to carry an invisible magic.
Yan Xiang was overjoyed at the sight. Immediately understanding his intent, he shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Silence!"
"His Majesty has a decree!"
The clamor inside and outside the city walls instantly fell silent as a flock of crows and sparrows struck dumb. Everyone held their breath, their eyes fixed intently on the young figure atop the gate tower.
Yang Feng cleared his throat, which felt somewhat dry.
If I was ascending the throne, I needed a name for the empire, didn't I?
Han?
No, wouldn't that be slapping the Liu family in the face?
Qin?
It perished after two emperors. Inauspicious.
Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, Qing?
No one would understand if I said those now.
Forget it. I couldn't be bothered to think. Whatever was simplest.
He drew a deep breath and announced in an authoritative tone that sounded unfamiliar even to himself.
"I-the Great Yang Empire."
Just five simple words, ringing out with weight.
Then he racked his brains for a few stock phrases leaders often used in meetings in later generations and addressed the dark mass of people below in a ringing voice.
"Today, I ascend the throne! I shall devote myself to good governance, sweep clean the six directions, restore a bright and clear world beneath heaven, and give all people a flourishing age of peace!"
His words were impassioned. Though empty in substance, they were perfectly suited to this time and place.
"Long live our emperor! Ten thousand years! Ten thousand times ten thousand years!"
Another wave of cheers surged forth, toppling mountains and overturning seas.
And just like that, the crude, hurried enthronement ceremony came to an end.
With a throng of guards surrounding them, Yang Feng led his two freshly minted founding statesmen, Yan Xiang and Ji Ling, into the imperial palace that had once belonged to Yuan Shu and now belonged to him.
Walking through the palace's lavish corridors, Yang Feng looked at the excited, glowing faces of Yan Xiang and Ji Ling beside him, his heart a jumble of all five flavors.
I really ought to "thank" you two properly!
You're completely screwing me to death, leaving me no way out!
My life plan had been perfectly clear: become a literary plagiarist, write some world-shaking poems, songs, and rhapsodies, make a little money, then buy a big house in Shouchun, with three to five lovely wives and beautiful concubines upstairs and seven or eight performers and songstresses downstairs. Every day, I'd listen to a few tunes, drink a little wine, and enjoy a peaceful retirement. Wouldn't that have been nice?
But you two went straight to the finish line and shoved me onto the imperial throne!
Alas.
I really didn't want to ascend the throne.
Yet regardless of what Yang Feng himself thought, the wheels of history had already begun rolling forward.
Soon, the news that Emperor Yang Feng had ascended the throne in Shouchun and founded the "Great Yang Empire" spread throughout the land at an unprecedented speed, as though it had sprouted wings.